Redhead's Muscular Horse TF (Patreon)

You're breathing hard now. Not from fear—though that’s there, thick in your throat—but from the effort of just existing in that body that isn’t yours anymore. Every breath drags your ribs wider, every pulse stretches your skin tighter. You’ve grown. So fast, so violently, your shirt didn’t stand a chance. It’s in tatters on the floor now. One final shred gave up across your back as your shoulders surged out, too broad, too thick. Now you’re standing there, bare and trembling, covered in sweat and shame and not much else.

You’re huge.

And your face… Christ. Your nose is monstrous now—two yawning pits stretched wide, flaring with every panicked breath. It looks obscene on your face, fleshy and wet, twitching as you sniffle.

But your eyes—they're still yours. Wide. Wild. Desperate. You’re in there somewhere, drowning.